Oops.
by Rascal
Summary: A Tai-centric sillyfic in the form of a journal entry or summat =) Taiora


Disclaimers are for weenies. Yah wanna sue me, bring it on. ^_-   
  
Don't you hate it when stories meander around for paragraphs before finally revealing the point of the story? I sure do. That's why I won't meander. I'll tell you why me, the man with a plan, is sitting here at his desk writing out this stupid thing instead of eating or sleeping or playing soccer, all of which I enjoy much, much more. Sora and Matt broke up.  
There. I said it. That wasn't hard, was it? But that's not what my story's about. That's just WHY I'm writing it. Because my best friend and my other best friend are now both very much single. Spiffy, ain't it? Anyway. They broke up because-and I quote-Matt was "losing his single allure" and Sora "felt like she was being suffocated". It was a mutual agreement to go their separate ways.   
I agreed, too. Of course, I didn't say anything. I've denied Sora's existence for the past three months now. Well, two and a half. Those other two weeks are what I'm writing about.  
Because Sora and Matt broke up-That changed my whole world. Of course, I was too stupid to notice it right away. Actually, that's probably a good thing, because then this story never would have happened. I don't need to write it down, but I want to. So you can skip my blabbing and get to the good parts. See, if I were actually saying this to you face-to-face, you'd have to listen. Not any more.  
Anyhoo.   
The Beginning   
(Well, people say" the end". Why not "the beginning"?)  
It all began with a phone call. I was in an exceptionally bad mood when it came, because the great-big-shiny-happy-dance was coming up, and my future wife was going with the only person whose butt I wouldn't kick. Ah, caught on the horns of a dilemma.   
Did I say Sora was my future wife? Well, technically she already married me. We were seven and performed the ceremony during gym class. The pastor was a traffic cone wearing a hockey mask and I had a soccer ball for my best man. Sora had a teddy bear for her "even better" woman. Oh, come on, we were seven. What did you expect?   
You might be wondering why we would want to get married. Well, because then we'd be able to wear those nifty rings. (They were the kinds with big plastic spiders. Mine got melted in the washing machine.)  
Was I rambling again? Anyway.  
That fateful phone call.   
This is how it happened:  
(The phone rings. I pick it up.)  
"Hello?"   
"Hello, this Sora, may I please speak to Tai?"  
"Hey, Sora." Oh, by the way, Sora, did I mention every time I hear your voice my heart beats a little faster?   
"Oh, hi Tai, I thought you were your dad. Anyway, wanna come apple picking?"   
Yes, very much so. I love doing anything, Sora, as long as you're there. "I don't know if I…"  
"Please?"  
"I--"   
"Pretty please?"   
I sighed. "Sora, I've got a lot of homework, I'm not sure--" I really, really, want to say yes, Sora, but if I'm alone with you without Matt in a 20-foot radius I'll confess my undying love and that could get ugly.  
"Tai, we go every year, fall just won't be the same if we don't go…"  
She sounded so pathetically sad, but I know Sora well enough to know she was bluffing. It was nice to know she cared enough to lie. "I can't."   
"Come on, Tai, its tradition."   
"Go start a tradition with Matt." I said, and hung up.   
At this point I surprised myself and probably Sora as well. That's the first time I let one of my bitter, cynical comments slide through to anyone. Let alone her. Oops.   
That was Step One in plan End Of the World As I Know It. Step Two was completed because of my dearest darling dork of a little sister. She's impossible to compete with---she's just too nice, and too perfect, and too sweet (too sweet is right. She has no backbone. And I mean that in the nicest, brotherly-est way.)-So I usually don't try anymore. But occasionally I give it a shot. So when I see her standing in the doorway, staring at me reprovingly, cordless phone in hand-what do I do?  
Well, I break down. Repent. Sigh and say, "Sorry, Kari. I'm having a bad day."  
She's still standing there. Staring. Apparently, I'm extremely easy to manipulate, because next second I'm asking myself What would Kari do in this situation? She would go over and apologize, of course. I look up at her.   
She's still staring.   
I say, "Look, Kari, I'll go apologize to her, ok? I didn't mean for that to pop out."  
And what does Kari say, but, "I have no idea what you're talking about. I just wanted to tell you you left your radio on."   
Oops again.  
You know, it's just one of those days. My earliest memory of " one of those days" was when I was in first grade and the teacher switched my seat so I'm surrounded by Barbie fanatics who worship pink and chant Backstreet Boys songs like cult members, and on top of that it's picture day and I'm dressed in the most uncomfortable suit of all time and then at recess I didn't get a turn on the tire swing. My most recent one-that is, before the one I'm describing now-would be Christmas. Having a date turned down, the world being attacked, too much homework over vacation, yadda yadda yadda-you get the picture.   
(I'm doing it again, aren't I? Rambling, I mean. I'll try to stop. Over and out.)   
(By the way, I just read over what I wrote so far, and I figure you might be confused. I know apple-picking season is not three months after Sora and Matt started going out [Christmas]. I just started hating the sight of them together that long ago, because that was when I first saw them kiss. YUCK. I'm 15 years old and I still hate kissing scenes in movies, real life between my elementary school [And junior high. And high school] crush and best friend was sickening.)  
(Sorry about that. Last time, I promise.)   
I slunk towards Sora's apartment. Don't screw up, I remind myself. Just say you're sorry and run away as fast as possible.   
I rang the doorbell of her apartment. Waited for a minute. Almost rang it again but didn't want to seem rude. Finally, I heard footsteps. (I should have known it wasn't Sora right then. It sounded like heeled shoes. Sora never wears heels except with skirts, and she only wears skirts to school and special occasions.)  
The door swung open. I somehow get out the words "I'm sorry," before the surprised face behind the door registers in my brain, and you know what I do next?  
I run away as fast as I can.   
"Tai, wait!" Mrs. Tackenouchi called after me. "If you're looking for Sora, she went to the orchard!"  
I kept running and decided to change my name and skip town. Why oh why do people recognize me so easily?   
(I know what you're thinking. It's the hair. I could hear you thinking that, don't deny it! Well, I got news for you, buddy. Big hair is more common than you think. Just because I'm better endowed than some is no reason to get all huffy about it, capish?)  
I actually went to the orchard. I could have cleared thing with my conscience with a simple, "Oh well, I tried." But I followed Sora anyway. Maybe it was the lingering remains of WWKD. Maybe it's because I'm madly in love with her. Whatever.  
I drifted through the orchard. I've always loved it here, since I was a little kid and would gorge myself and apples and cider before going home to eat chocolate fudge and peanut brittle before running to Sora's for a pumpkin pie and quick nibble of their candy stash before suiting up for Halloween. I closed my eyes and walked through, absorbing the sun like fungus on a rock. (I'm not a poet, ok?!?) I didn't know where I could find Sora, but I had a pretty good idea. There was a particular tree with branches perfect for sitting in that we'd, well, sit in, and throw the occasional apple seed at a passer-by. (We got away with it, too, because we were so cute.)  
I had stopped right outside that tree and heard a sound of quiet snuffling. "Sora…" I said tentatively.   
She threw an apple (minus one bite) at me. That's my girl!  
"Oh, thanks, you're sharing the other half of the worm with me?" I joked weakly.   
"Go away." She muttered.   
(Woo hoo! Dialogue time! The ultimate escape for lazy writers!)   
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry, Sora." I said.   
"Then say it and GO AWAY."  
"I'm sorry." Silence. "Can I be forgiven?" More silence. "Sora?"  
"No."   
"Please?"  
"NO."  
"Pretty please?"  
"Tai, just go. I don't want to talk to anyone, especially YOU."  
"That wasn't very nice."  
"Neither were you."  
"Well, you were mean first."  
"Oh yeah?"  
"Yup."  
"Go away."  
"Can I be forgiven, Sora?"  
"No."  
"Why not?"  
"Because you were mean."  
"So were you."  
"Oh really, Tai? When?"  
"When you turned me down at Christmas."  
There was a long pause. "Well, that was a slap in the face." Sora said quietly.   
"It hurt, Sora."  
"I didn't know you cared that much."  
"Now you do."  
"I didn't know…"  
"Yeah."  
There were two or three soft thumps of falling apples, then a louder thump of falling Sora. Okay, jumping Sora. Picky, picky. She brushed by me and shoved a white box into my hands. "Merry Christmas, Tai."   
She walked away then, her back straight, chin up, shoulders back-the bearing of a princess. But I had seen tear stains on her face. (Now I felt really guilty. I had come to say I was sorry and made her feel worse. Of course, I felt pretty darn bad too-I mean, she wouldn't even forgive me! Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.) Then I glanced down at the box and felt even worse. Queasy. Faint. There was a label tied on, with the words in Sora's round handwriting, "Sorry, Tai! Here's the cookies I promised!" and a smiley face. Then underneath that, the crème a la crème, the perfect end to a perfect day, the words-"P.S. I broke up with Matt. Call me!"  
Yep, just one of those days.  
I didn't talk to Sora for the next 10 days. The day I talked to her again is 3 days ago this night, since one day of the aforementioned (like my big word? I sure do.) two weeks was taken up by my bitter comment+orchard apology+eating cookies. (What, you expected me to waste them? Sora spent time on them! And she's a pretty darn good cook, too!) It was at school.  
Chemistry class. The scourge of the antisocial portion of the populace (I'm getting halfway decent at this writing thing.). Yup, that's right-lab partners.   
Sora was mine. What a co-ink-ee-dink!   
Sora and have been partners on every major project since kindergarten. We could make some pretty mean finger paintings together. By third grade, we had established a niche for ourselves as the Unbreakable Partners, which held strong to seventh grade. In 7th, our EVIL (I get shivers just thinking of her, even now. She was seriously, EVIL!) English teacher looked down her large, warty nose at us and proclaimed we should diversify to impr-oo-ve our ed-oo-cation. She really talked like that-way too many "o"s in her words and awful perfume. She smelled like musty attics. Supposedly, that was fashion when she was much younger and slightly less warty.   
But I digress.   
So Sora and I worked together (HA! Betcha didn't see THAT coming!) and we actually talked.  
"Please pass the beaker."  
"Wanna double check this measurement?"  
"I'll put away the equipment, you clean the table."  
As I filed away the many beakers, graduated cylinders, test tubes, paper towel rolls, yadda yadda, we had used in pursuit of better ed-oo-cation, I tried to think of a suave yet sweet way to break the ice with Sora.  
"Sowhathaveyoubeenuptothesedays?" Oh yeah. I'm just too cool.  
Sora shrugged. "I dunno. You?"  
"Same."  
"Oh."  
"Yeah."  
Three or four minutes of awkward silence. I watched as the second hand crept around the clock. Three… two…one… the bell rang! Yay! Freedom! I beelined for the door.  
"Tai! Wait!" Sora shouldered her way through a crush of people. "You forgot your lab sheet." She handed it to me and smiled.  
I melted inside. "Thanks. Oh, by the way, I love you." Debonair, charming, smooth---this I am not. Honest, yes. Insane, very much so.  
Sora's jaw dropped.   
"I mean, as much as teenager can be in love." I'm digging my own grave here. "I've always loved you, like as a friend and stuff, but now I love you-love you, you know?" The customary six feet have been reached. "If you don't like me, I'll understand and all, but I wouldn't complain if you did like me back-" -saying my own eulogy here-"so I'll see you around, ok?" I jump right in.   
Sora finally exhaled. "Tai…"   
"Yes?" I said quickly. This was it. The final moment of truth. And the envelope please…  
"What a coincidence. I love you too."   
(Woo hoo! If I had a happy dance, I'd dance my heart out! But I'm not the most graceful person alive, or the best choreographer, so I don't have one. Oh well, nobody's perfect. Except Sora.)   
So we've been dating for two days now, and it's been heaven. After our true confessions of love, surprisingly enough, we didn't have a beautiful embrace in the middle of the hallway with teenagers milling around. We hugged quickly and ran to separate classes (Hey, that I-love-you-you-love-me thing had taken time and we didn't want detention for being late to class.).   
We're not public kissers.   
But we're not in public now.   
Buh-bye.   
  
(A/N Life doesn't always make sense, why should my story have to? ^_~)  
  
P.S. The End 


End file.
